The Payoff
by gf7
Summary: JJ loses a bet and has to accompany Reid to ComiCon. Wackiness ensues. Mild profanity.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've had this one mostly finished and just sitting on my hard drive for awhile. I popped an ending on and am letting it fly. It's completely different from the majority of what I do. This is light-hearted, slapsticky and utterly plotless so forgive me if that's not your thing. If it is, enjoy and let me know what you think.**

* * *

It was a bet that she should have been able to win with both hands tied behind her back

It was a bet that she should have been able to win with both hands tied behind her back. After all, Jennifer Jareau knew football. Knew it well enough to have won her fantasy league three years running. And most certainly well enough to have won season tickets two seasons ago by answering the most Redskins related trivia questions during a call-in radio contest.

And yet somehow, inexplicably, he'd won the bet.

He told her that the Skins would lose by 3 points to Tampa Bay. She'd snorted derisively and sweetly replied that he should stick with Star Trek. He'd grinned and offered up the bet. If he won, she had to accompany him to Comicon during July of the upcoming summer. Thinking it an easy win, she'd agreed to it quickly. Her prize? A month of Starbucks on him.

A quick handshake, a smug smile and the bet was in place.

But then, come Sunday morning, dressed in flannel pants and a bright red Skins tee-shirt, she'd watched as her beloved team, already mired in a miserable season, had fallen to defeat at the hands of the even lowlier Buccaneers.

The final score had been 20-17.

It seemed incomprehensible.

And also incontrovertible.

The game hadn't been ever thirty seconds before he'd called.

She'd let it ring three times before finally answering it.

"Hey," she'd sighed, before he'd even said a word. "Didn't I say they would lose by three?"

"No," he'd chuckled. "I did."

"So, the bet…" she'd started feebly, desperately searching for a way to get out of her side of it. Praying that he'd take mercy on her. But then, quietly:

"I can't wait."

And then she'd groaned, knowing that she was stuck.

Knowing that oddly enough, her only hope of getting out of it was for someone to be murdered. Maybe if a case came around, took them through the weekend, made it impossible and unfeasible for her and Reid to travel all the way to San Diego…

Maybe she could find a case to do so…

But that hadn't happened. Hotch had announced that they should all take a few days to unwind. She could have sworn he'd been smiling just a bit when he'd said it. At her.

And so now, sitting on a bed in her hotel room, a room which Reid had been gracious enough to pay for(against her protests), she couldn't help but wonder what the hell she'd gotten herself into.

Before she could think too much on that, her phone rang. She looked down at the Caller ID and sighed loudly when she saw that it read: MORGAN.

She pressed the answer button and pressed the phone against her ear, wondering idly and not for the first time, why she'd never bought herself a Bluetooth earpiece.

"What?" she asked dryly, knowing instinctively that this call had nothing to do with work.

"Luke, I am your father," Morgan breathed into the phone.

"Oh, go to hell" she replied crankily, just before she tore the phone away from her ear and with a violent stab of her fingernail, ended the call.

She thought she could hear Morgan laughing all the way from his house back in Virginia.

A soft knock on the door pulled her mind away from thoughts on how to extract revenge on Morgan. Revenge would have to wait then. But it would come, oh yes.

She opened the door to reveal Spencer Reid standing there, smiling just a bit. He was dressed in jeans, one of his omnipresent sweaters neatly in place. And for the extra geek effect, he was also wearing his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Ready?" he asked.

She frowned. "Actually…"

"Actually," he put in, a smile spreading across his face. "You've just come down with a sudden one hundred and three degree fever that's terribly contagious, right?"

Meekly, she nodded.

"Trust me," he said, "Five minutes inside the main hall and you'll completely forget that you're sick."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

"Oh no," he laughed. "If I told you what to expect, you wouldn't have near as much fun."

"Or you wouldn't," she grumbled.

"Actually, I'm really looking forward to this. I really think you'll have a good time."

"And then afterward we can do Stargate marathons every weekend?"

"You know Stargate?" he asked with an excited squeal. But then, realizing the sarcasm, he added, "You never know."

"Uh huh. All right then, let's get going," she sighed. He saw her pick up her cell and look at it like she was thinking of tossing it into a drawer or something.

She looked like she didn't want to bring it with.

"JJ?"

"Morgan," she said with a slight air of petulance. "He's been calling me every ten minutes with a new Star Wars quote. I might kill him when we get back. I'm most certainly going to send flowers to Melinda."

"Melinda? Wait, isn't she is the psycho he dated for two weeks a couple of months ago?"

"Yup. I think the card will read, 'I miss you, baby. Let's get together. Stop by my place anytime. Love your Derek Bear.' I think she'll love it. Don't you?"

"You're evil," Reid told her.

"When I need to be," she replied, reaching for her leather jacket and pulling it on. She was in jeans and a tee-shirt, looking like a fresh-faced small-town girl.

Having seen her in expensive suits that made her look amazing more than a few times, Reid believed that he'd never seen her look better than she did right now.

He wondered if he should warn her that a hot blonde chick walking through Comicon was likely to draw more attention than she cared for.

But that would be warning her.

He'd made a promise to himself – and to her – that he wouldn't do that.

He wouldn't ruin the experience for her.

And now, leaving the hotel room with JJ by his side, he thanked God for the sudden flash of inspiration that had made him make the bet with her.

That and his bookie friend in Vegas who'd let him know ahead of time what the line looked like.

* * *

The San Diego Convention Center was a massive building, but by the time the two youngest members of the BAU team arrived, lines of people were already wrapped around it.

JJ couldn't help herself from groaning when she saw a large man wearing a costume that was supposed to make him look like a hobbit. What he actually looked like was…well…not a hobbit anyway. That much she knew for damn sure.

"Here," Reid said, handing her a ticket. "I took the liberty of pre-registering us. They tend to sell out on Saturday."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Really? Why"

He shrugged. "Believe it or not, there are a lot of people like me out there."

"Really?" she asked again, unable to hide her doubt.

He nodded.

"That frightens me, Spence, it really does," she admitted.

He laughed, unable to hide his giddiness. His eyes caught on the brightness that suddenly emanated from her cell phone. He saw her glance at it. Saw her scowl as she ignored it. Knew that the caller had to be Morgan.

Knew that in her mind, JJ was already revising the love letter to Morgan's ex, making it that much worse, making sure that Morgan would regret annoying her.

And yet he couldn't find the energy to care.

Because JJ was here.

With him.

Right now.

He led her towards the check-in point, presented their tickets, allowed a large woman to place an orange paper band around his wrist and then watched as JJ reluctantly permitted the woman to do the same to her.

"Ready?" he asked with almost delirious glee.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No, honey," the big woman said to her as her eyes swept over JJ, the expression on her face telling the blonde that which she already knew – that she was way out of her league. "You're pretty much doomed." Then, with a big smile. "Have a good time now."

The first thing JJ saw when she stepped into the building was a room filled up with young men and women – mostly men - sitting at long cafeteria style tables. A closer inspection showed them all to be playing cards. She cocked her head curiously.

"Magic."

"Excuse me?" she asked, turning towards Reid.

"What they're playing. There are a lot of different games, but the most commercially well known one is called Magic the Gathering. It's a turn based game where the cards dictate what happens."

He could tell by the look on her face that she still wasn't quite getting it.

"Come on," he said, leading her towards one of the tables. She wrinkled her nose as they approached, as she saw that the two competitors – one a ten year old boy who looked like the before picture in a Noxema ad and the other a man in his fifties, who had both the look and smell of someone who probably still lived in his mother's basement – were staring each other down.

The man looked up first and grinned lecherously at JJ.

"Hey mama," he said. "Come to sit on papa's lap?"

Her eyebrow sprang into her hairline and for the first time in a very long time, Jennifer Jareau found herself speechless.

Thankfully Reid wasn't so afflicted.

"No," he replied. "She prefers men who don't get beat by an Ironclaw Orc card."

JJ had no idea what the hell he'd just said, but the basement man looked severely insulted by it. "You don't…you just…you don't know what the rest of his hand has been like!"

"Well," Reid shot back, "If that's his closer, I'd say pretty weak. That or your deck is so bad that he's chosen to use his castaway pile on you."

The kid nodded and smirked, confirming that that was indeed what he was doing.

JJ, for her part, was still completely lost. And not all that sure that she had any interest in being not lost.

In fact, watching Reid verbally spar with this man over a deck of darkly colored cards, well it was a bit unsettling to say the least.

"Well how about this, how about you let me hold sweetie's hand there and we'll see how well you do, Sweater Boy," the man growled.

"I didn't bring my deck," Reid shrugged.

"Convenient."

"You have a deck?" JJ asked, under her breath.

"Only a tournament one," he answered back.

"You play tournaments?"

"Yeah, Garcia got me into it. You wouldn't believe how good she is. She's even placed pretty high in a few of them."

A bit disturbed, though truthfully not even remotely surprised by this new information, all JJ could do was shake her head in dismay.

"Well if you don't have a deck, then get outta here and stop ruining my concentration," the man demanded, his eyes sweeping over JJ one last time. She couldn't help, but shiver. Not because he frightened her, but rather because the look of lust in his eyes was just…weird.

It was like he'd never seen a woman before.

Not a real live one anyway.

"Come on," Reid said. "Let's head into the main room. That's where all the action is anyway."

* * *

JJ quickly found out that Reid wasn't kidding.

Stepping into the massive main room was a little bit like entering the mosh pit of a heavy metal concert. People were jammed together, leaving little room for maneuverability.

The first thing she saw upon entering was a large woman who stood at least six and a half feet tall. She was beautiful and voluptuous and the costume she was wearing, which best resembled three straps of leather slapped carelessly across her, left little to the imagination.

"She's a model for one of the independent comic book publishers," Reid told her, barely sparring a look at the woman. "Probably Wildstorm or Dark Horse."

She nodded like she knew what he was saying and not for the first time, she wished she'd done a little more research on this convention. But Reid had made her promise not to. Insisted she'd ruin it for herself.

And so here she was, starring up at a large woman with even larger breasts. A woman who was strutting around seductively, letting geeks take pictures with her.

"So this is the middle of this whole place?" she finally managed to ask Reid, turning away from the woman and looking up at Reid.

"It's what's called the dealer's room. A marketplace of sorts. Chances are you can find anything to do with sci-fi, fantasy or comics in here."

"Don't really collect any of those."

"Maybe, but I bet by the end of today, you will have found and bought something that you didn't believe you'd ever see again."

"Sounds like an easy bet for me to win," she said slowly. "But then, I think I've learned my lesson about that."

"Scared?" he teased, knowing exactly what reaction he would get. Jennifer Jareau wasn't the type to back down from a dare. It was one of the things he adored about her.

And of course, she didn't let him down.

Defiantly, blue eyes flashing she replied, "Never. You're on. And if I win, you have to accompany me to that stupid ball I have to go to."

"Ball?"

"You know, that newscasters one."

"Oh, yeah. Wait, you still haven't been able to talk your way out of that?"

"No," she grumbled. "And I still have no idea why I was even invited, me being a FBI agent and not a newscaster and all. But you know Hotch, he seems to think it'd be a good idea for me to go. Thinks it will help build stronger bridges with the press."

"Do you need to build stronger bridges with the press?"

"No, my bridges are just fine, thank you. And I'd prefer not to have to spend three hours having every reporter in the room ask me for scoop on every case the FBI is working."

"Okay," Reid nodded. "If you win, I'll go with. As terrible as it sounds." His tone was light because for him, the idea of spending a night as her date wasn't all that bad of a concept. "And if I win, we make today an annual thing."

She laughed. "You're on." Then she put out her hand and they shook on it.

"There you are," a voice suddenly said from behind him. They turned to see an impatient young man in his twenties. A nametag on his striped shirt said "Hi, my name is Lord Randor". He was staring at JJ, his face screwed up in an expression of irritation. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You should be in costume by now."

She blinked, but quickly recovered. "No, sorry. I think you've got the wrong person," JJ replied.

He seemed surprised by that so he consulted his clipboard. He flipped a page and then said, "No, you're Jennifer Jareau, right?"

"Right," she said, a bad feeling coming over her.

One that was already beginning to alter the note to Morgan's ex again.

Maybe to the tone of "I think I'd like to start up something long term with you."

"Well I've got you signed up to be on the floor as the Black Canary."

"The Black Canary?" she asked.

Reid cleared his throat. "A character in DC Comics. She's a former member of the Birds of Prey and is now part of the Justice League of America."

"As in Superman Justice League of America?" JJ asked.

He grinned, seeming a bit proud of her. He nodded.

She turned back towards Lord Radnor. "I'm sorry, but there's really been a mistake. I never signed up for anything."

"Lady, I don't know what your game is, but you did," Lord Radnor insisted. "You sent your picture in in response to a casting call. We called you last week and you confirmed your interest."

"Wait, I did?"

"Did she sound kind of masculine?" Reid asked, apparently thinking the same thing that JJ was.

"No, she sounded like a woman."

"Garcia or Emily," JJ hissed, quickly going over ways that they could be added to her revenge plan against Derek.

"Look, it seems like there's been a misunderstanding," Reid insisted. "Our friends submitted her name and picture.."

"I don't really care who submitted it, you signed a contract."

"I did not," JJ told him, starting to get irritated.

"I show you did. You faxed it back to me. See." He showed her his clipboard, upon which was a picture of her that she recalled had been taken while on a night out with the girls.

She was dressed a lot more sexily than usual since the plan had been to see who could get the most guys to buy them drinks. JJ had won, but only by one. Prentiss and Garcia had tied for second.

Also on the clipboard, JJ noticed, was a contract. Which indeed showed her signed name. Not her actual signature, but her name. And by the loop of the letters, Garcia had been the one who had signed it.

Still, she rather guessed that Emily was somewhere involved in this whole fiasco.

"Still," Reid said, "I'm telling you, she didn't sign it."

"She did and she's gonna hold to the contract. We already sent her…" he turned to JJ. "You, the hundred dollar check. And lady, believe me, I will sue."

Unable to resist, JJ snorted derisively. The guy's eyebrow shot up, but before he could say anything, Reid grabbed her arm. "Let us have a moment," he told Lord Radnor.

Radnor nodded and Reid pulled JJ a few feet away. On her side, a young girl passed by, gushing about a clever tee-shirt that she'd just bought. One that said something like "I see your Schwartz is as big as mine."

"I think we can probably lose him if we head over towards artists' alley." He pointed over towards the far side of the room, where at least a dozen amateur artists were sitting, all of them trying to sell their work.

"You think?" she asked hopefully. But before he could nod a yes, she groaned and said, "Hotch will kill me if I come back and tell him that I'm being sued for breaking a legal contract."

"So we'll tell him Morgan and Garcia forged your signature."

"That's assuming he's not in on this with them." She narrowed her eyes and looked at Reid. "Are you in on this with them?"

He held up his hands and shook his head.

She wasn't quite sure she believed him, but chose for the time being to let it go.

After all, she had bigger concerns.

Look who the hell was this Black Canary chick and what did she look like? And more importantly, would did her costume look like?

"How bad it can be?" she asked Reid meekly.

"JJ," he started to caution.

But she wasn't listening to him anymore. She moved over towards Lord Radnor. "How long do I have to wear it?"

"The contract says three hours."

JJ shook her head. "One hour."

"Lady…"

"One hour or I walk and good luck suing me. I know the law a lot better than you do, believe me."

Lord Radnor's mouth gaped open for a moment, looking a bit like a cut fish. After a second, he nodded and throatily said, "One hour. Deal."

And for the second time in less than twenty minutes, JJ shook someone's hands.

Only this one was fairly greasy.

And all the while she was doing it, she was rewriting Morgan's love letter. Now it read, "I was thinking, I'd love to start a family with you. At least a dozen kids. I can't believe I didn't see it before, but it's clear to me now that you're the love of my life."

Garcia and Emily, well they would take more planning.

But revenge would, of course, be had.

* * *

Starring at herself in the mirror, Jennifer Jareau decided that revenge simply wasn't good enough for her dear friends who were most certainly rolling on the floor by now.

She imagined them sitting together on one of Morgan's leather coaches, Clooney at his feet. And sharing beers together, they were most certainly near to hysterical.

She, on the other hand, was close to murderous.

After all, it turned out that the Black Canary was something of a streetwalker.

Or at least that's what her leather bustier, fishnet stockings and high-heeled boots led JJ to believe.

"I don't fucking believe this," she muttered.

"JJ?" Reid called out as he opened the door. "Are you –"

"Decent, no. God, no. But I am wearing…well not clothes, but something. You can come in."

And so he did. And almost immediately, he gasped.

She turned towards him. "I don't imagine there's a chance in hell of Morgan and Garcia not seeing me wearing this."

"I'm thinking they've got spies."

"Oh I'm so going to have Esther repainted."

Reid chuckled. Then, "Lord um…Radnor is waiting for you."

She took a deep breath. "Reid, I can't believe I'm doing this."

"For what it's worth, you look great."

"I look like a ten cent whore."

"Well, no, actually. Black Canary is actually one of DC's toughest heroines. Beautiful, smart, resourceful..."

"What powers do I have?"

"Excuse me?"

"Powers. I mean, I assume my superpower isn't my trampiness, is it?"

"Uh, no. You're a…I mean Canary is...she's a hell of a fighter and she has her Canary cry."

"Canary cry?"

"A high pitched sound that destroys the equilibrium of anyone around her."

"Hey, enough gab, let's go, Jareau," Lord Radnor said as he stepped into the room. Almost immediately, his eyes swept over her and he couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Beautiful lady, just beautiful."

Now the love letter to Morgan's ex had become a sonnet. As well as an order with the florist to send a dozen roses every day for a week. All with a different promise of endearing and enduring love.

* * *

Fifteen minutes into her one hour stint as Black Canary, JJ was wishing the Canary cry had come with the clothes.

Reid was hovering close by, making sure that no one got too grabby, but there was nothing he could do to stop all of the horny young men coming on to her.

And the pictures she had to keep taking, well she knew that at least one or two of them was going to end up back in Morgan's slimy little hands.

Maybe the one she'd taken with the guy dressed up as Harry Potter.

Or the Klingon.

Or the Lords of the Rings style elf with the large codpiece. The one he'd kept touching the whole time he'd been standing next to her.

Or oh God, the giant Cylon who had grabbed her ass right as the flash had gone off. Her expression in that picture, well it had been a strange mix between furiously pissed off and terribly shocked.

And before she could tell him where he could shove his metal digits, he'd clanked away, off to tell his buddies that he'd just goosed the Black Canary.

Thirty minutes in, some pimple faced kid had started critiquing her outfit and then her stance. He had insisted that Dinah Lance – apparently Canary's real name – had never looked quite as slutty as she did now. He had called her a weak and unsuitable imposter.

He had challenged her to prove that she was worthy to wear the outfit.

She had wanted to kill him.

Forty-five minutes in, a young girl had asked for a pic. She'd told JJ that she'd been sick for awhile and the comics she'd read had given her great joy. After the Polaroid had been snapped, she'd asked JJ to sign it. And JJ, so touched by the story, had quickly agreed. When she'd asked the girl how she wanted it signed, the reply had been, "with your real name". And so JJ had written: To Emily, FTW, JJ."

It wasn't until after the girl had left that Reid had explained to JJ, who had had no idea what FTW meant, that the initials meant "For the win".

And it had been then that JJ had confirmed that Emily was indeed in on it and that she'd just been set up. And since FTW was apparently an online term, that again told the tale of Garcia's involvement.

Grouchily, JJ wondered if she could arrange to have Emily's desk transported down to a basement somewhere.

Or maybe find a way to hold Garcia's laptop – her sweet James – for ransom.

Fifty-five minutes in and with only five to go, a boy, who was shaking so hard at the chance to actually stand next to a real life woman, spilled his soda all down the front of JJ's costume.

Now sticky, uncomfortable and cranky, she made her way towards a bathroom in the staff area. A quick shower and a change back into her regular clothes lifted her mood, but a look at her watch told her that the day was far from over.

The terms of the original bet had stated that she'd stay the whole day. It was only two in the afternoon.

All day meant until six.

Four more hours.

* * *

Thankfully, the next part of the afternoon included lunch. A longtime fan of football games and the food that was served at them, she had no problem with ordering a hot dog and fries and dropping down into a seat opposite Reid.

"You swear you had nothing to do with that?" she asked.

"I swear."

"I find out you did…"

"You'll hurt me," he finished. Oddly, it sounded like to her that he almost relished that idea.

"I will," she assured him, before taking a large bite out of her hotdog. After spending an hour dressed in heels and a bustier, she was apparently not at all interested in ladylike behavior. Which to be honest, was just fine with him.

He'd always known this part of JJ, that she was one part uber-professional lady - complete with suits that cost more than some people made in a month -, one part perky motivator with a big smile and a soft touch and the final part tomboy, often more comfortable in pajama bottoms and a shirt that was badly faded because she'd owned it for fifteen years.

She chose to whom she let see each part.

He'd seen them all.

"So what's next?" she asked.

"I figure we'd try another crack at the dealer's room," he said. "After all, we still have that bet."

"That's right," she nodded. "And I intend to have a date for that evening."

"And I intend to have a partner for this next year," he replied.

She snorted. "Dream on. Next year Morgan's going with you and he's dressing up as the Black Canary."

Reid couldn't himself from laughing, the image so absurd.

* * *

It took a very short amount of time for JJ to realize that she was in trouble.

Serious trouble.

Standing in the middle of a room full of booths, all of them offering up goods, most of the merchants willing to haggle, well it was all too much for her.

Because occasional tomboy though she be, she was also a women who loved to shop.

And someone who seriously dug a good deal.

"Twenty bucks for the whole set of My Little Pony," a fat man with a ponytail told her as he gazed down at her.

She glanced around, saw that Reid was standing in front of another booth, in the middle of negotiating a deal for the full set of NC-1701 schematics.

She wondered if she could hide the DVD set from him.

"Ten," she replied, voice low.

"Fifteen and I'll throw in the special edition movie. Very rare."

"I don't think I ever saw it."

"Trust me, you want to see it."

"Hey, JJ, everything okay?" Reid asked as he approached. He saw the DVD case she was holding and couldn't help, but grin. "Find something you want to buy?"

"No," she said quickly. "I was just waiting for you." She pushed the set back towards the guy with the ponytail.

"My Little Pony, huh?"

"I was looking at it for my niece."

"So you were thinking about buying it."

"Only for my niece. But I'm not about to lose this bet."

Reid just smirked. "Well how about I remove the temptation for awhile."

"Oh? What are you going to make me dress up like now?"

"Uh…oh…um…" he stumbled, suddenly looking like he had swallowed his tongue.

She laughed. "What did you have in mind, Spence?"

"A trivia contest. Winner gets a one hundred dollars."

"What kind of questions?"

He cleared his throat. "You know."

"No…"

"It's a cross platform of all of the major mediums."

"Sounds dorky."

"No! It's really…okay, so it's a little bit dorky…"

"I don't have to participate or dress up?"

"No."

"Then I'd be more than happy to join you."

He grinned and then, because he couldn't quite resist, even knowing full well that he should, "Your niece is only eight, right? How does she even know about My Little Pony?"

That earned him a hard elbow to the gut.

* * *

It turned out that the trivia contest was actually kind of fun. It brought out the side of her that enjoyed watching football games, the competitor in her.

And since the crowd gathered around the three remaining competitors was already raucous and loud, she saw no issue with joining her voice to it.

So she cheered for Reid. Loudly and exuberantly.

And when he answered a question that sounded something like "in the episode such and such, on what side of the Enterprise did it receive the most damage?", she went near to ballistic cheering for him.

After almost half an hour of this, it was finally down to just Reid and a guy with coke bottle glasses who giggled every time he answered a question. The crowd around him had gotten thicker. She heard someone to her side say, "Here he goes again."

"Here who goes again?" she asked, turning to face the boy. His nametag read Pepper.

For a moment, Pepper couldn't reply and JJ found herself wishing that she was Emily. Because Emily would have pushed right through this, this guys nerves be damned.

But JJ was too nice for that. So gently, reaching out to lightly touch his arm(a motion she noticed made him sharply inhale), she repeated her question, "Here who goes again?"

"Uh, Tommy," he stammered. "Tommy wins this every year. Six years running. He's…he's unbeatable."

"Oh," she said very softly. "Well I think this isn't going to be lucky number seven for him."

Pepper's mouth opened and she caught a whiff of garlic fries. She smiled against it. He finally settled for shaking his head.

"Trust me," she answered. "That guy up there, he's a genius."

"So's Tommy."

The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them, words she'd heard before, though usually after her third beer and while at a football party.

"Wanna make a bet on it?"

"Yes," he squealed with excitement.

"Okay," she said carefully. "But before we do, I need to know, do you know or have you even been approached by anyone with the name Derek, Emily or Penelope?"

"Huh?"

"Morgan, Prentiss or Garcia?"

"Huh?"

"Mm hmm," she said, not quite believing him. "Okay, fine. If I win, you have to buy me a set of DVD disks from out on the floor. Any set I want and without question."

It seemed to her like such an obvious way to thwart Reid from winning his bet. After all, if she never spent the money, then he couldn't possibly win. But if someone did, if someone else say…gifted her the DVDs…well then, she'd have a date for that insufferable ball.

"And if I win, you let me introduce you as my girlfriend to all of my friends."

"Seriously?" she asked, not able to hide her dismay.

"No," he laughed. "You're hot and I'd love to show you off, but I'm not that pathetic."

All she could do was smile weakly.

"If I win, you have to model for me…"

"Oh, no," she said. "Already did that today. Not again."

"No, not a costume," Pepper said quickly. "Just a shirt."

"What kind of shirt?" she asked, just as another roar of approval went up over both Reid and Tommy answering a question correctly.

"Nothing weird, I promise. I design shirts for a living. You know, with sayings on them. My most popular one right now is a marble colored one with the words 'Luke and Leia, Brother And Sister In The Most Biblical Of Ways'. Pretty sweet, huh?"

Again, all she could manage was another half-assed smile that probably looked a whole lot like a grimace.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I wouldn't waste you on a shirt like that. I have another one in mind."

"You do?"

"I do."

"And you've never met Morgan, Prentiss or Garcia?"

"Don't have a clue in the world who those people are."

"Okay. Deal." And again, her hand went out. When he took it and shook it, she was surprised by how soft his palms were.

"All right," the man standing between Reid and Tommy called out. "We are now in the sudden death row. Any wrong answer is immediate elimination without the hope that your opponent will also miss it. And remember…"

Suddenly, from around JJ, a cheer of "there can be only one" went up.

Involuntarily, she flinched.

But before she had too much to dwell on that, the contest started up.

Ten minutes in, her throat felt like it had been scratched raw from all of the screaming. Who would have ever thought that you'd yell so loud at something like this.

She was far from the only one. Pepper was next to her, yelling encouragement to Tommy. Insults were being traded back and forth and for a moment, JJ wondered if she'd stepped into an alternate universe.

And then groaned, realizing that the thought of alternate universes, well that was a Reid thing.

Apparently he was rubbing off on her.

The contest kept going for what felt like forever. But then, abruptly, suddenly it was over.

And Reid, inexplicably, had lost.

He'd been asked a question and in his zeal, he'd answered immediately. Then, realizing that it had been a trick question, he'd desperately tried to backpedal.

But they gave the so-called geeker belt to Tommy.

Lucky Goddamn Seven.

"So, ready?" Pepper asked.

"It doesn't show anything…it shouldn't, right?"

"Nope. It's a fruit of the loom tee-shirt. Completely decent, I swear."

"What's going on?" Reid asked as he came over to join her. He was holding a bag full of compensation SWAG in his hand.

"I lost a bet."

"Another one?" Reid asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

She sighed. "Yes."

"JJ…"

"You can just pull the shirt over the one you're wearing," Pepper told her. "Come on, it's over at my table."

"JJ, if you want to leave, we can," Reid said, suddenly feeling sorry for her.

"No, it can't be that bad," she replied as they walked with Pepper back towards his booth.

Reid wasn't quite so sure and he was even less sure after Pepper reached behind the table and extracted a black tee-shirt with white words on it. "Here."

JJ took it from him and her eyes nearly bugged out. The wording read: Geek Whore.

"No, no way," Reid said immediately.

JJ was just too stunned to speak.

"You her boyfriend?" Pepper asked, looking Reid over.

"Yes," Reid replied and JJ looked up at him, blinking. "And there's no way I'm letting my girlfriend wear that."

"Spence," she said softly. "I made a bet."

"Well I didn't," he replied, attempting to puff himself up, presumably going for intimidating.

JJ almost laughed.

"Come on," Pepper urged. "Have a sense of humor." He turned to JJ. "You're dating a geek, be proud of that. Wear it."

"I think I've worn enough geek today," she mumbled, turning the shirt over in her hands.

"Hey, your boy lost, Mine won. Ergo…"

"Ergo," she replied, thinking to herself how no one actually said that word. Then, with a sigh, "Spence, it's okay."

"JJ…"

"Really. After dressing up at the Black Canary, this is actually downright…tame." She pulled the tee-shirt down over her and then turned to Reid. "Well, how do I look?"

"Uh, beautiful?"

"Nice answer," Pepper said. "Now what would be best is if you walk around the room and if anyone asks where you got that, tell 'em Pepper's Place, booth C-32, okay?"

She nodded and started through the room. Once they were far away enough from Pepper, she leaned in towards Reid, "My boyfriend."

"I figured maybe I could scare him out of making you wear the shirt."

"That's sweet. Deluded, but sweet. And it's not too bad," she said, as they passed a couple of boys, who pointed at her and then started whispering amongst themselves.

"I mean, at least Morgan isn't here."

And then, right as if on cue, her cell rang. She looked down at it. "Speak of the devil?" Reid asked. She nodded.

"Think I should answer it?"

"You'll probably regret it."

"I know," she said, hitting the answer button. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," came Morgan's smooth as butter voice. "I'm just wondering, wearing that shirt and all, if you have any idea how many young men are going to be whack-"

She hung up before he could finish the sentence. "He knows about the shirt."

Reid glanced around the room. "So Pepper is in on it, too."

"I'm going to kill them."

"Lean forward," Reid said suddenly. JJ lifted an eyebrow, but acquiesced. She felt his cool hands touch the back of her neck and then one palm slid under the neckline and extracted the tag. "Oh," he said simply.

"Oh?"

"There's a big litter H written here."

"Hotch," she growled. "I expected the others…"

"We really should just leave," Reid told her. "Before they torment you any further."

"No, we have a bet and I don't leave just because of them. We stay until six. Only one hour left. I can make it."

* * *

The minutes dripped by, but mercifully, six finally came around. Pepper, who claimed to have no knowledge of the H on the tag, was so thrilled by all the service that she'd drummed up that he told her she could keep the shirt.

She'd managed to avoid the temptation of the dealer's room by staying far away from any tables with video on them.

And by spending entirely too much time thinking about what type of revenge she would extract upon her friends at home.

"Well I guess that's it," Reid sighed, coming to stand next to her. He had a plastic bug slung over his shoulder.

"What's all that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "A little of this, a little of that."

She shook her head. Then grinned. "So I guess that means I won this bet? You're mine for the ball."

"Yep. I guess two out of three ain't bad."

"You're not the one who had to look like a street walker and then got critiqued on it."

"True. What are you going to do with the shirt."

"Wash it and give it to Garcia. It's not quite her size, but I'm sure she'll find some use for it."

"That's nice."

"Mm. It will be nice eventually. First I plan to hurt them all very badly."

"Revenge is a dish best served cold. Did you know I can say that in Klingon?"

"I beg you, please don't."

"Okay. So what are you planning."

"Oh, no, no. I'm still not completely satisfied that you weren't in on this whole thing."

"I told you I wasn't."

"Hotch helped them. That pretty much blows my faith in anyone out the window."

"Good point, but I swear, I am completely innocent of this."

"Mm hmm. You know if you're not, Morgan will sell you out in a heartbeat, right?"

Reid just grinned. "Shall we go?"

"Let's."

They started walking towards the exit.

* * *

Dinner that night was nice and quiet. They had it at the hotel's restaurant. She ordered a bottle of wine and they both drank it completely down.

Pleasantly buzzed, he walked her to her room.

"I had a really good time today, JJ," he told her. "I'm glad you came with me."

"Well, in spite of everything, I think I am, too. Which is not to say that I necessarily want to do it again, but it was interesting" she admitted, just before leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Good night."

"Good night."

* * *

Monday morning, she stepped into the bullpen and yawned. She was the first one in. As usual.

Good, she thought to herself. That would give her time to set up her little surprise for Morgan.

Something he'd never forget.

Something they'd never forget. Any of them.

But first she needed something from her office. A notebook with a phone number on it.

During the two weeks that Derek had been dating Melinda, she'd called into the office once and left her number. JJ had written it down and then logged it in case it would be needed later.

She hadn't expected it would be needed for revenge.

But then she hadn't anticipated that Melinda would be near as crazy as she'd turned out.

Right now, however, JJ was quite glad that she had been.

She made her way down the hall to her office and opened the door. And then stopped cold as her face flushed red.

"Reid, you son of a bitch," she growled.

For all around the room were little plastic figurines of toy ponies.

An in the wall, in paper letters usually used to say something like "Happy Birthday" were the words: JJ's Little Ponies.

"Hey, JJ," a voice said from behind her.

She spun around to see Morgan standing there, Prentiss right behind him, looking almost apologetic. Almost.

"Smile," he said, before pulling out a Polaroid camera and then taking a quick picture.

"I'm going to kill you all," she promised.

He looked down at the developing photo, which showed a growling JJ with wide eyes. "This will look good next to the shots of you as Canary and the tee-shirt."

"You know I always get even."

"He's counting on that," Prentiss warned.

"I'm counting on that," Morgan confirmed, before turning to walk away. Then he stopped and turned back. "And oh hey, don't blame Reid. He doesn't know about this."

"Then how do you?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Check the box on your chair," Morgan told her. "It's sweet." Then he placed a hand over his hand and fluttered it.

"All right, Derek, that's enough," Prentiss said, grabbing his arm. To JJ she said, "You know I was coerced, right?"

"I know you'll suffer the same fate he will."

"Really? Because I was hoping you'd realize I'd never do all that to you."

"FTW, Em. I remember, I'm sure you do."

"Yeah, that. I'm going to go get some coffee."

"You do that."

She watched as Morgan and Emily walked away, laughing.

Oh, yes, they would suffer. As would Hotch and Garcia.

But what of the box on her chair?

She stepped back there and that's when she saw the My Little Pony DVD set that she'd been looking at. On it was a small post-it that said, "I know you wanted it. Hope it brings a smile. Reid."

Spence, you son of a bitch," she said again, this time under her breath and with a great deal of affection.

And then she dropped down into her seat, reached forward for her address book and flipped it open.

"Melinda," she muttered. "Where are you, my friend?" She found the entry and put her finger on it, then picked up her phone and dialed. She waited for a few rings, listened as a voicemail came on and then said, "Hi, Melinda, this is Jennifer Jareau. I work with Derek Morgan at the FBI. Look, he'd kill me if he knew I was calling you, but he's very near and dear to me and I hate seeing him in the state he's been in since you broke up. Look, Derek's not so good at telling people what he feels. He tends to run and hide. You know men. Anyway, I happen to know that he likes to do lunch every Monday at a cafe called Paps on 3rd and Oxford. He'll be there at 11:15. He would love to see you. Trust me, he missed you. Bye."

She hung up and smirked. "Now for Emily."

-fin


End file.
